Watching
by Simon920
Summary: Dick's parents are watching.
1. Chapter 1

Archive: Fine, but if you want it, please ask first.

Feedback: Hell, yes.

**Watching  
**

**Fifteen Years Ago**

It was so odd, this being dead. Just an hour ago they were going about a normal evening with and their usual performance and now…it was all so sudden, that was the thing that was hard to adjust to. Maybe when they had some more time, had a chance to get used to it everything would seem less strange, but for now…it was just so different.

The other thing which was difficult to understand was how they could be so aware if they were, well, you know—if they were dead but it was like all those bad books and accounts of near death experiences you hear and read about. They were above, looking down at their bodies and the people surrounding them. They themselves were calm enough and wished they could tell the others, especially Dick—God, most of all Dick, that they were al right and not in any pain, that they'd be here watching to make sure he was taken care of.

God, Dick was so young still, just eight years old and he needed someone to take care of him so badly. He was still just a baby; their baby and he couldn't be left alone. Not now, not yet.

"I'm sorry son, I wish there was something we could do, but…they didn't suffer, I promise they didn't. It was very quick and they didn't feel any pain; you have my word on that." The doctor left, probably happy to be done with this. It had been a real mess and now there was a kid left behind and that was always difficult. Thank God his shift was over in an hour and he could go home, pop a beer and forget tonight ever happened 'cause God knew what would happen tomorrow.

"C'mon, Dick, you come stay with me tonight, okay? I'll look after you, I'll make sure you're all right—we all will." The young boy looked up at Jimmy; he was still wearing his clown makeup and costume, but Dick could see he'd been crying and his whiteface was streaked. They were sitting on the first row of bleachers, the crowd had filed out, the police and the ambulance people were getting ready to leave and he was just kind of left here. There were murmurs from the other performers standing around, he felt someone put a hand on his shoulder and squeeze and that almost made him start crying again but he didn't think thee were any tears left right now and they wouldn't change anything anyway, so what was the point?

But the police wouldn't let Dick stay with Jimmy or anyone else from the circus because they weren't 'family', even though they all insisted that wasn't the case. Because the Grayson's had died without a will—or none they could find that night, anyway, and with no actual blood relations immediately available, Dick was remanded to Child Protective Services. By then he was in shock, barely speaking and in no condition to protest, even if he hadn't been eight years old.

"_John, there must be something we can do. He's—John, he's crying. Please, we have to do something. We have to."_

"_We will. I'm not sure how, but if we can see and hear him, there must be something we can do."_

_The Graysons weren't really sure where they were. Floating in a way, but they could feel their bodies, so the whole idea of being ethereal beings or ghosts wasn't right. And if they could feel and think, they could worry about their son and try to help him._

"_That your boy down there? Good looking kid, if you don't mind my saying so."_

_How very odd. An middle aged woman, dressed in a fifties house dress of the type you'd see on Donna Reed and missing only the pearl necklace, was beside them, though they had no idea who she was, how she'd gotten there or why she'd care about Dick._

"_He's barely stopped crying and they're making him get in that police car as if he'd done something wrong." Mary Grayson looked like she might joint the boy crying. "Is there anything we can do? Please, do you know how all this works?"_

"_Of course—May I call you Mary and John?—I'm Ann and I'll be showing you around until you get your bearings, if that's all right with you." They nodded. Really, what else were they going to do?_

"_Well, first things first. Let's get that boy of yours out of that horrible place they've put him in, shall we? This may take a little while, but we'll get it done. Now, whom would you like him to stay with? Do you have some family who could raise him?"_

_Mary and John looked at one another. They'd talked about this but Mary was estranged from her family and all of John's relatives were still in Europe. The Haley family, the circus people would be happy to take care of Dick and he'd be with 'family'. Maybe Pop would be willing? _

"_Sorry, the authorities will never let him stay with the circus." Ann made an apologetic face. "It looks like you died in testate, which was not too smart, you know. That means a judge will decide where he ends up. Now, we can nudge things a bit, but bureaucrats are bureaucrats no matter who you are. My goodness, you really should have made a will, if you don't mind my saying so. So—no family? Did you leave the boy any money, at least?"_

_John looked a bit abashed. "We never made much and fliers who work without a net can't get insurance."_

_Ann was too polite to roll her eyes, but she probably wanted to. "So we need someone with enough assets to take care of him. All right, now, the police won't allow him to travel out of state until the case is closed because he's probably some kind of material witness. Do you know anyone in Gotham? No? Well, you're certainly not making my job any easier, you know." She sounded exactly the way Mary's mother did when the dog left an indiscretion in the living room._

"_May I ask a question?" Mary's voice was a bit tentative. "I don't mean to sound rude or dumb or anything, but we are dead, aren't we?"_

"_Of course you are, dear."_

"_It just seems so strange to be talking about bureaucracy when we're—you know. How can we make sure Dick is going to be taken care of? I'm so worried…" Looking down they saw the child being locked in what seemed to be a holding cell of some kind. He sat on the uncomfortable looking cot, his knees drawn up and his arms around his knees. It was breaking Mary's heart. _

"_It's not all fluffy clouds and wings, you know. I really do wish we could clear up that nonsense, it just makes things more confusing when newcomers arrive." Ann was checking a list on a clipboard she'd produced from somewhere. "Well, if you don't mind my saying, if you'd thought about these things a year ago he'd be all set and settled, now, wouldn't he?" She was sounding a bit like she'd just found a peanut butter smear on one of her cabinets. "Yes. This could work." She was checking off a name on the second page on her list. "Financially secure, upstanding member of the community, civically minded, employed, no prior arrests, live in help. Yes, he should do nicely. You don't mind that he's single, do you? There wouldn't be any funny business with this one and this is short notice, you know." She pulled a cell phone from the pocket of her apron. "Peter? Good morning, sweetheart, how are you? Sniffles all gone? Wonderful!…Could I possibly impose on you for a teeny favor? Listen, did you see about that circus accident a couple of weeks ago?…Oh, I know, just awful! Well could you be a dear and put a bee in Bruce Wayne's bonnet about adopting the boy?…You will? Oh, you're just the best!…Now you're coming over for bridge this weekend and I'm not taking 'no' for an answer!…No, I'm not taking 'no' for an answer. 'Bye, honey." She made a check mark in the middle of the second page then looked over at the Graysons with a maternal smile. "There, that's taken care of. Anything else?"_

_John had his arm around Mary's waist, trying to hold her up. "What's taken care of?"_

"_Your son, Dick—he's being adopted or something by Bruce Wayne and should be out of Juvenile Hall in three days." She seemed ready to leave._

"_Bruce Wayne? You can't mean that Bruce Wayne. I mean, you can't…"_

"_Oh please, dear, don't sputter. It's very unattractive. Of course I mean that Bruce Wayne; do you know any others? Besides, Dick will be taken care of, he'll have money and new career and everything will work out perfectly."_

"_A career? You mean he'll end up working for Wayne?" John couldn't imagine Dick in an office._

"_Well, sort of yes. Now, let's get moving, we don't have forever you know—everyone up here thinks they can just dawdle and while away as much time as they'd like but we really need to wrap this up if it's all right with you."_

"_You said he's been there for a few weeks? But…"_

"_Time moves a bit differently up here, John, you must realize that. You've been dead almost a month now."_

"_But…"_

_Ann almost, but not quite, seemed annoyed. "Please pay attention and try to stay with me. You were killed almost a month ago in a fall off that silly trapeze, leaving your young son behind. There was a mistake and he was sent to Corrections—because you neglected to name a guardian in the event of your deaths, I must add and that was very neglectful of you, you know—I've arranged to have him taken in by a wealthy member of the Gotham community and that will set him up for life and also eventually give him a nice career. Not a bad day's work, if I say so myself." She favored them with a beatific smile._

"_Um, what are we supposed to do now?" Mary was confused by the whole thing._

"_Do? Well whatever you want, of course."_

"_But, were do we go?"_

"_Go? You mean like a house or something? We've arranged for you to have a very nice trailer over in the entertainer's section. You're right next to the Flying Wallenda's; lovely people and you'll enjoy them. Now, anything else?" Her cell phone rang again. "Charlie will show you and if there's a problem, just pick up the phone; I'm #1 on your speed dial." She answered her phone with a 'please hold, sweetheart'. "If you want to watch your son, turn on the TV, channel 9. All righty, I'll be in touch!" That was it, she was gone and while not exactly in a puff of smoke, that wouldn't be too far off._

_Charlie, a teenager dressed as a kind of bellhop, slouched out from behind a tree. "Um, this way. You're new, right? It's okay here, you'll get used to it and Ann's okay after you get used to her. Circus performers, huh? Cool. Falling must have kinda sucked, but that's awesome. Okay, this is you." They were in front of a small trailer, identical to the one they had at Haly's until they opened the door and somehow the place was about 5,000 square feet. Well, whatever. "Okay, you need anything, just dial 'O' on the phone and it'll be cool. Later."_

_John stopped him, still a bit confused by everything. "What are we supposed to do here?"_

"_What, do? You're dead, do whatever you want. Hang out, make some new friends, chill, It's all good, dude."_

_John and Mary just looked at each other after he left then went to the enormous wall mounted TV screen and clicked on channel 9 with the remote. There was Dick, now ensconced in what could only be called a mansion and not one of those prefab ones, the real deal. He seemed sad or apprehensive, but considering what he'd been through, that was hardly surprising. There were Christmas decorations up and clearly more time had passed._

"_Master Dick, I would appreciate you're making more of an attempt with your Brussels sprouts, if you don't mind."_

"_I hate them."_

"_We do not 'hate' anything, young man."_

"_I do."_

_There was a pause and a slight softening of the older man's expression. "Would French fries be more acceptable?" Dick gave him that smile which always melted his mother's heart and nodded. "Master Bruce will be home in about an hour and I would suggest you have your homework done by then as I believe he has a surprise in store for you."_

_The scene shifted to a dark and eerie cave but since Dick was wearing the same clothes, was probably the same night. Dick was there with the man who could only be 'Master Bruce' and John and Mary nervously glanced at one another. What was going on and what was this surprise for Dick that had him so excited? _

"_I've been pleased with the progress you've made and I think you're ready."_

"_Ready for what?" The child could barely contain himself, much as he was trying and John thought how like Dick it was for him to maintain a professional demeanor, no matter what._

"_You're ready to help me find and catch the man who hurt your parents; if you want to, that is."_

_Dick's eyes were huge in his face, the brilliant blue more intense than usual under the artificial lighting as he nodded._

_The man, Bruce Wayne, reached behind a computer consol, pulling what looked to be a large piece of fabric from it's hiding place, shook it out and placed an attached cowl on his head. "You're ready to become my partner and our first case together will be to bring your parent's killer to justice. If you're interested, that is." He flicked a light switch, illuminating an alcove behind them. There was a brightly colored costume on a child-sized mannequin._

_Dick's eyes went even larger and he nodded._

"_Your code name is 'Robin', if you agree."_

"_You're really Batman?" Dick looked at the other costume, clearly modeled after the colors in the Flying Grayson's working clothes. His expression was serious and he nodded again._

"_John—no. He's still a baby. We have to stop this before he gets hurt."_

_He looked at the image of their son and the very strange man he'd now been tied to. "He needs this. He needs to avenge us to deal with his own pain, Mary. We'll let him do this and as soon as he finds our killer, we'll find a way to put a stop to it."_

"_Do you promise?"_

"_Promise._

_TBC_


	2. Chapter 2

Feedback: Hell, yes.

**Watching **

**Part Two **

**Fourteen Years Ago**

"Robin, behind you."

"I see them, chill out." He threw an almost nonchalant roundhouse kick followed by two more which took out three of the Joker's men. He'd been going out as Robin for over a year now and he was getting pretty good at it, if he said so himself. Especially since no one else would say it. That was the big thing about being with Bruce that bothered him. Sure, fine, the Robin part was pretty cool and living at the Manor beat living in a cell but it didn't come close to living with his parents in their trailer and he missed them every day. He never said anything, of course, but it was true and it wasn't even the big things that he had trouble getting used to—like living in a mansion and going to a fancy private school instead of his Mom teaching him on the tiny scarred up table they had or even being Robin. It was the little things like how Alfred's mashed potatoes tasted different from his mom's or how his Dad spotted him differently when they were trying to learn a new move or what constituted a reasonable bedtime. Nine o'clock? Please. He was used to getting through with the show after ten then making it to bed by about eleven or twelve. This nine stuff was for other kids, okay?

But things were settling in okay, all in all and Bruce had even promised that one of these days he might let Dick meet some of the Justice Leaguers if he promised to behave himself.

He still missed his parents, though. Every day.

Yesterday was his birthday and if they were still alive there would have been a party and cake and a couple of presents but yesterday…Bruce forgot. He was busy and Dick really understood that, especially after Bruce didn't show up for the special dinner Alfred had made but that was okay. It didn't matter. Not really. It was just a stupid birthday but he'd heard Alfred talking to Bruce about it when they thought he was asleep and Bruce just didn't get it. He said he was sorry and that he'd do something to make it up but if his parents were still around it wouldn't have happened because his Mom always said everyone deserved to be special one day a year but Bruce, well, Bruce didn't notice stuff like that.

Being Robin was pretty cool, though.

"_John, can you believe what that man did? Can you? It's Dick's birthday. His ninth birthday, the first one without us and that man"—she couldn't quite bring herself to say his name this evening—"is out with one of his money-grabbing sluts while Dick is alone with a damn servant. We have to do something about this and right now."_

_Dear God, she was on a tear and that wasn't a god thing—a mother bear with a threatened cub would have been easier to deal with. "Mary, you know we can't…"_

"_Of course we can and you also know as well as I do that if we were still with him, I mean really with him, Dick would be having cake and ice cream with his friends and be opening presents instead of sitting in some straight backed chair doing math homework." The look on her face made it clear how she felt about kids having to sit in straight-backed chairs doing homework. Cripes, he was supposed to be the easy going Gypsy and she was supposed to be the middleclass voice of parental reason; it had always worked before, anyway._

_The scene dissolved and they were in an upscale restaurant facing a table overlooking the view of the city spread seventy floors below them. The patrons were well dressed, the atmosphere hushed as only very expensive places are._

"_There, you see? He's sitting there flirting with that, that woman while poor Dick is home doing drudge work and I'm not going to stand for it another minute." Using all of her concentration, she made the silver gravy boat tip over into the very young and very blonde woman's lap as Bruce reached over to feed her a special morsel. There was a shriek followed by a flurry of waiters as they did what they could to clean up the mess; the young woman was hustled off to the ladies room to do as much repair as was possible and Bruce stood up to allow the chair and table to be changed and cleaned. He waited there calmly enough for a moment, turned and walked over to the Matre'd._

"Jacques? I'm awfully sorry for the commotion and all but I've really got to be going. You'll see to it that Miss Wellesley is safely home? Now, all apologies and please make sure Philip gets this, will you? Good man." He handed over two hundred dollar bills for the waiter, signed the bill and walked out, knowing he'd be buying the girl a couple of new dresses and sending masses of flowers in the morning, but he'd had an sudden and overwhelming need to make sure Dick was all right and a simple phone call wasn't going to cover it. He reclaimed his Porsche from the parking valet and revved the engine most of the way back to the manor. When he walked into the front hall, he saw the small, very small pile of torn opened wrapping paper and knew what he'd forgotten. Ah hell; Dick's birthday was today—Alfred had said something to him at breakfast but it was early, he was reading the paper and hadn't paid much attention.

Damn.

It was after nine, there must still be something he could do to make it up to the child.

Going to the study, he took the communicator out from its secure hiding place and made a call. Ten minutes later he had Dick dressed for his surprise as Clark calmly walked into the boy's room with a kind smile, cape trailing behind and a nod to Bruce.

"So you're the young man I've been wanting to meet all these months."

Dick's eyes went wide; this was friggin Superman, for Chrissake!

"Dick? May I call you that? I'm Superman but my friends call me Kal. I've heard you're having a birthday and, if it's all right with you, I'd like to give you a present from the Justice League and me if it's all right with you—would you like to go for a ride?"

"A ride? Are you serious?" He looked like he wanted to jump out the window himself, but was waiting to see if this was a joke or something. Bruce had this weird sense of humor.

"I thought it might be fun, but if there's something else you'd rather do…"

Something else? Was he kidding? "Let's go!"

_Beside the bed, unseen, John turned to Mary as their son was flown out the window. "Better?"_

"_Better."_

The next day in school Dick was still too excited to be tired, despite the fact that Superman—"My friends call me Kal"—hadn't gotten him back to the Manor until almost four in the morning. They'd flown around the world, stopping in at a few places Dick said he thought would be neat to see—the Tower of London where the beheadings were, a real sunken pirate treasure ship in the Caribbean (they'd had to go underwater for that one, but it seemed that Kal was friends with Aquaman and so it was cool), a flyby to the space shuttle in orbit, the top of Mount Everest and finally, the Fortress of Solitude; even Batman hadn't ever been there.

He wasn't even tired when Kal (he could call Superman Kal!) brought him home. Bruce was waiting up, pretending he was doing some work in the cave, but Dick could tell he was waiting and seemed almost kinda annoyed when he'd told Bruce about the great time they'd had together, but go figure. Hustled off to bed, unable to sleep he kept reliving everything he'd seen and how totally cool it had been that Kal had spent practically an entire night showing him around. He was Superman! He saved the world like most people brushed their teeth or something and he'd spent hours and hours flying some kid around for his birthday. Oh man.

The next day at breakfast Dick didn't see the look on Bruce's face since he was still overcome with last night and told and retold Bruce and Alfred everything three times.

His parents saw the look, though.

"_You'd think that man would be glad to see Dick so happy after the way he completely forgot his birthday yesterday, but instead he's jealous. I swear, John, I'm going to talk to Ann about seeing if we can get Dick moved—I bet Superman would take him in, I just bet he would."_

"_Mary, c'mon—listen to yourself, will you? 'Superman will take Dick in'? What, Batman isn't exciting enough for the kid?"_

"_I'm not talking about excitement, I'm talking about someone to take care of him, to look after him—to care!" _

_The big TV screen in their enormous living room flicked to Dick sitting in a classroom, a month later. The time thing up here was a pain to get used to. He as staring out the window, probably daydreaming about Superman again. With a slight mental hiccup and a touch on the TV remote the scene shifted to Bruce Wayne's office where the Grayson's could see him sitting at his very large desk, feet planted firmly on the blotter as some man tried to make a point with him. Bruce yawned._

"Well, yes, I know that Lucius, but be reasonable. I'm a busy man and Dick has Alfred to look after him. Of course I could leave early, but what kind of example would that be setting to the employees?"

"Bruce, it's your decision, but I really think—and I'm speaking as a parent here—that you might want to rethink missing that science fair at the boy's school."

"A science fair? _A__science fair_? I mean, like with all those smelly chemicals and mice in mazes? It all sounds so…grade school, if you know what I mean."

Lucius looked like he was counting to ten. "The child is _in_ grade school, Bruce."

"Well, yes, I know that, but…"

"I really think it would be a good idea."

Bruce swung his feet off the desk. "But I was going to play golf with James this afternoon."

Lucius sensed victory. "I'll have Andrea change your tee time and call him. I'm sure it won't be a problem."

"And you're sure he'll like this?"

Lucius nodded. "I'm sure."

Sighing as he made his way down to the parking garage under the building, he knew Lucius was right, but he was busy. The golf date? Sure, that was real, but he was going to leave after the third hole, pleading a forgotten lunch date with this week's bimbette—Cindi? Candi? Carli? Whatever. Then he needed to spend a few hours on the Clayface clues they'd picked up last night. After that he had a JLA meeting and after _that_ a patrol. Well, fine. He'd do this, make an appearance and get it over with. Twenty minutes later Bruce walked into the school gym, now set up with long rows of cafeteria tables covered with posters and plants and God-knew-what things made out of erector sets. In the middle of the third row he saw Dick sitting on a folding chair, alone. His project, something involving Popsicle sticks, string and pulleys was wearing a blue ribbon. For the life of him, Bruce didn't know why Lucius made such a fuss over this. He'd spoken to Dick that morning at breakfast and the boy had assured him that the fair was no big deal; he probably wasn't going to win and to forget about it, which seemed reasonable. And now here he was, surrounded by soccer moms, teachers and several hundred noisy kids. It was hell and on top of that, he could see the principal headed towards him and knew he was about to be touched for a donation to whatever cause they needed money for now. He knew that look and could recognize it at a hundred feet.

But he also noticed the look on the Dick's face when he saw Bruce walking closer and then he got it.

"_You did it. Bruce showed up and Dick knows he's cared about. You were right, Mary."_

_Mary rolled her eyes in exasperation. Men. Of course John loved dick; he adored him and would have died for the child, and for her, too for that matter. Well, all right that was a poor choice of phrase, but it was true. But men—he really thought this was the end and the problem was solved. _

_She knew better. A man like Bruce Wayne knew nothing about raising children and likely had no interest in learning. He'd taken Dick in out of pity and a nudge from above but he'd turned over the day to day care to an elderly servant and was now using Dick as a paid employee for Batman; as an apprentice and Mary wasn't even close to happy about that. Yes, sure, Dick was having a good time and it was helping him get over his loss, but he was losing his childhood and that was something she wasn't going to sit still for. He needed friends his own age, he needed independence and he needed to know that he was loved and cherished the way he'd been when she and John were with him in body as well as in spirit._

_She was his mother and she'd make sure he had what he needed._

_She could and she would._

"Look at this! Congratulations, chum. Good work."

Dick gave him that big smile, the one Wonder Woman would be a lady killer in a few years, not that she was interested, of course. "Thanks. You want me to explain it to you? Most of the other kids and parents didn't get it, but Kal said he did something like his when he was in school and it sounded really neat the way he talked about it so I thought I'd try and…it's pretty cool."

"Kal suggested this to you? You mean on your birthday?" They were talking about science projects on Dick's birthday?

"No, when I called him a couple of months ago. I asked you if you had any ideas but you were busy and Alfred said something about 'noxious chemicals and rabid animals' and so I called Kal. He said I could; he even gave me his special number. That's okay, isn't it? He said I could call and he didn't seem angry or anything, he was really nice and then he came over to show me what he meant."

Clark had shown the kid how to do a science project? He'd come over, didn't have the courtesy to mention he was even there and showed his ward how to do some dumb science project for a third grade science fair? Tonight he'd be having a talk with Supes and you could take that to the bank.

"Bruce? Was that all right? You're not mad, are you?"

"No, of course not, you did just the right thing and I'm proud of you. Well, well, we'll have to be getting a trophy shelf for you, right up in the study with the rest of the family's things!"

Damn Clark, this was going too far and he wasn't about to let that Kryptonian Boy Scout weasel his way into Dick's affections and that was all there was to it.

_Mary was watching all this on the TV screen, Bruce's thought appearing like sub-titles across the bottom. Cut off Dick's access to Superman? We'll just see about that. Concentrating, pushing the remote again, she planted a suggestion in his mind… "Clark is one of your closest friends and you trust Dick with him implicitly. He's welcome any time he wants to see Dick and you're grateful for his friendship and influence on the boy. In fact, you're going to tell him so tonight at your meeting and you're going to do so in front of all the other Justice League members."_

"_Mary? 'You coming to bed?"_

"_Yes dear, I was just finishing something."_

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Archive: Fine, but if you want it, please ask first.

Feedback: Hell, yes.

**Watching**

**Part Three**

**Eleven Years Ago**

"So, I was thinking that if you don't actually need me, I'll just stay around here tonight."

"I think you should be at the meeting. You'll be working with the JLA sooner or later and the better you get to know them, the more effective you'll be." Period.

"But it's not like I'm even allowed to sit in or anything. It's boring. Besides, I could be doing homework." Anything, try anything to avoid this.

Batman didn't say anything, his look was enough. Robin would be spending the evening sitting in the JLA waiting room. Fine. Whatever. He'd go. Maybe he could get his homework done or something.

He was in the waiting room, drinking a can of coke and ignoring the other two kids who were also sitting there in weird super hero costumes. So far he'd been in this room for almost two hours and of course he knew who they were—Aqualad and Kid Flash but Robin was busy finishing his reading and he really needed to get it done. He knew Bruce had probably known the others were going to be here and Dick knew he was supposed to introduce himself and do what? Maybe they could all go to a movie together or get a pizza. Did Atlanteans eat pizza? Sure, why not, just be sure there was a triple topping of anchovies and everything would be cool. He settled in with his copy of 'The Crucible', the current English assignment and did his best to pretend he was alone. Or he did until he got to the point where he couldn't ignore being stared at any longer.

"You're Robin." That was Kid Flash speaking and no shit, Sherlock. He sounded like Dick should be impressed he'd recognized him—like it was hard when he was in costume. Not. It wasn't like he wasn't ever on the evening news or in magazines and stuff.

"And you're Kid Flash and you're Aqualad. Hi. Look, I don't mean to be rude or anything, but this is homework and I kind of have to get it done." He turned a page in the book, trying to make a point that he was occupied, thanks. He really did need to get this done by tomorrow.

"Hi. Yeah, sure." There was a pause. "I'm Wally and this is Garth." There was another pause when Dick didn't respond. "You want to be here as much as we do?"

The hell with it, Arthur Miller could wait. "Pretty much. You want to get out of here?"

"Oh, yeah but Uncle Barry will get mad if I leave without telling him."

"Arthur told me to stay here." That kid seemed really cowed by something and Robin gave him a hard look, which was returned. He might be whipped by something, but being afraid of Robin wasn't one of his problems. Well, maybe he was just good at following orders or something like that. Okay, so they seemed to be agreed that they weren't going anywhere for the time being.

"So, you like being Robin? My uncle is always talking about how good you are, like I'm supposed to be you or something."

"Supposed to be me? What does that mean?"

"You know; perfect." He glanced towards the closed door to the conference room. "You're the perfect sidekick, they all say so"

Whatever. Besides, it wasn't true, Batman yelled at him all the time to be faster or smarter or more alert. "That a problem for you?"

"No, but I suspect it is for you." That was Garth, Aqualad and it was about the last thing Dick would have expected from him since he seemed like a harmless puppy sitting there with his bottle of water. "Isn't it difficult always being perfect? I couldn't manage it but fortunately for me Arthur has no such expectations where I'm concerned."

Meaning what? Arthur, Aquaman thought his sidekick was a screw up? So why would he keep him around if that was the case. Maybe the kid, this Garth, just had a problem with self-esteem or something but that was unusual in this business. You pretty much had to have some self-confidence or you didn't do this line of work. Maybe he was just some kind of charity case Arthur had taken on, who knows? Jeez, they actually seemed okay and maybe they could even be friends, and he knew they were probably the reason Bruce wanted him to be here, but he really did have to finish the play. Besides, he wasn't hungry and if his weight got above one-twenty-five he had trouble turning the quad so maybe they could get to know one another some other time. He looked up from the page again when he felt Garth still staring at him.

"What?"

"Forgive me, but does it ever annoy you? The pressure to be you?"

Dick returned the stare. "Do you always ask questions like that of total strangers?"

Garth seemed embarrassed, "I'm sorry, but I've been curious and I thought you might not mind, but I don't always understand things on the surface and so I say things I shouldn't…" He seemed really upset, like someone was going to yell at him.

"Forget it, it's okay. I never really thought about it, to be honest. I mean, sure, it's a lot to do, but it's all stuff I work at and mostly stuff I like doing so it's okay—does that make any sense?" Dick was trying to give a real answer to the kid. This Garth gave the impression that he was looking at everything for the first time and, being from Atlantis, maybe he was because this had to be serious Twilight Zone land for him. Dick put the book down on the table beside him. "Sometimes I wish I had more time to myself or had regular friends who I could just hang out with—it's really hard because of the secret identity thing, y'know? But to back off some of the things I work on would mean I'd have to give up being Robin and I don't want to do that, so I just do what I have to."

"You're lucky." Garth didn't elaborate, Wally didn't say anything and Dick went back to Act Three of his play.

"_John, look at this—this isn't right. Why isn't Dick talking to those other two boys? You know how outgoing he used to be."_

_John looked up at the TV screen then back down at his crossword puzzle. "He looks like he's doing some work."_

"_Would you please pay attention? Give him a nudge. What he needs right now are some friends his own age." She crossed her arms and that meant she wasn't about to stop any time soon. "John…Ann told me that if we just let him slide along it won't be the best thing for him and that's why we were given the remote in the first place; now please do something to help your son." Period. No argument accepted._

_Sighing and putting down the sports page he's been reading, he spoke into the remote's microphone. "Dick; talk to them. Do you hear me? Start a conversation and make a couple of friends. Go on, do it. These seem like nice kids and you could hang out with them, talk, do things together."_

Dick started feeling uncomfortable; maybe he was being rude and Bruce did want him here so he could meet these guys. Ah, hell…"You guys want to look around? You know, check this place out?"

Wally started to smile. "I think I saw Wonder Woman's sister or daughter or whoever she is over in the pool—maybe she's like to join us. Speedy thinks she's pretty hot."

"Speedy's here, too?" Cripes, Bruce would be seriously annoyed if he spent time with Speedy; he thought the kid was a train wreck waiting to happen. "But if Diana's sister is here, that might be fun." He'd seen her picture just last week in Time and she was seriously okay. Oh yeah, no question and if she was in—or even better, if she was out of a bathing suit, well…

Even Garth smirked at that. "Y'think? And Speedy isn't here. I think GA said something to Arthur about his being grounded 'until he dies'."

"_He's taking after you already, John—twelve years old and leering at girls. Really!"_

"_That's m'boy."

* * *

_

"So I understand the young master is going to the Titan's Lair again this evening, sir. And might I be so bold as to point out the articles regarding their latest adventures?"

"Ding Dong Daddy? Dear God."

"Well, I must agree the name is unfortunate, but they did acquit themselves well, if I may say so myself. I'm quite proud of the lad and his new friends." Alfred picked up one of the weekly news magazines with coverage of the same story. It seemed the young Teen Titans, as they'd taken to calling themselves, were being accepted easily and had become quite the rage. Evidently there was a run in the stores on red vests for boys and star covered shorts for young girls were flying off the shelves. The requests for talk show appearances and interviews were overwhelming and Alfred had volunteered to act as their unofficial scheduling secretary until they could hire an appropriate person full time—anonymously, of course. They'd already been forced to sign on one of those companies which answered fan letters and sent out autographed pictures, just like the TV stars had to do and Master Dick was complaining it was costing them fifty cents a letter times the over ten thousand they were receiving weekly.

"I think they need to pull back a bit; did you see Dick this morning at breakfast? He was exhausted and his grades are starting to slip. I'm going to have talk with him later and let him know…"

"You'll do no such thing! The young master is happier than I've seen in quite some time, he's out and about with friends his own age and they're doing good work and solving crimes." Alfred put the magazine down with a bit more force than usual. "And I would hardly consider a slight slip in one subject from a solid A to a B+ to be cause for major alarm."

_The Grayson's were out on their patio, which was similar to the clearing they would try to arrange outside their trailer when they were traveling around with the circus—just enough space for a couple of folding chairs they'd picked up at K-mart and maybe a small grill for hamburgers or chicken. The difference was that though the basic idea was the same, this patio had about ten times as much space, an in ground pool and no bugs. The odd thing was that when you looked at it, it looked like the old place. It wasn't until you were standing there you saw it for what it was. There was a lot of that up here…things not being what they seemed at first look._

"_I like Alfred, John. I really like that old sweetheart."_

"_And more to the point, so does Dick. The man is about the only softening influence he's getting now."_

"_I know and it breaks my heart. I just wish he'd been able to stay with Haley's, or at least some of the people there—he was so happy there."_

"_He's not unhappy here. Look at him—he's always laughing, just like when he was with us." The scene on the portable TV screen shifted to him working in the gym, smiling as he stuck a quad then changed to him in the pool, shouting as he and Garth competed to make the largest cannonball splash followed by him in the kitchen helping Alfred mix cookie dough. He really did seem happy—or happy enough, anyway._

"_He has almost no friends his own age and because of that horrid man he lives with he's not 'allowed' to really make some. He works all day, day in and day out, he almost never is allowed a real vacation and while all this is going on he's expected to maintain perfect grades, perfect manners and keep his room clean. My God—he's being turned into a Stepford student."_

"_Mary…"_

"_Well, it's true. He needs to get out with those youngsters more and just have a good time. In fact—hand me that remote."_

"_Mare…"_

"_Dick? You'd love to go camping with the Titans this weekend, just you kids. And while you're out there, you're going to seriously think about what you'd like to do with your summer vacation. There will be an opening at Haley's with their flying troupe and you're going to fill in for the summer tour through Europe. You're going to practice your quad and make sure it's solid and then Pop will call you. You're going to have the time of your life. Bruce will complain at first but then he'll go see you perform and he's going to tell you how wonderfully proud he is of you."_

_She handed the remote back to John. "There."_

_John had a slight smile on his face, he knew how she was when it came to Dick and she wouldn't stop until she thought she'd done what needed to be done for him. "Happy now?"_

"_Yes, thank you."_

"_Wanna celebrate being happy?" He had that smirk on his face, the one that always used to tell Dick to make himself scare for an hour. _

_She just smiled back and headed into the house.

* * *

_

Bruce was sitting in his skybox at Gotham Arena. The circus was playing below him, though he'd ignored all the acts until now. Dick was billed as the Special Guest Artist with the Flying Pendletons and was swinging high to get the speed and distance he needed for the quad. Beside him Alfred was staring intently. Nervous and apprehensive. Now Bruce knew the boy could turn the quad, but he flashed back to the last time he saw Dick on a circus trapeze above a sold out crowd. The boy had been eight years old and his parents only had minutes to live that night. He pictured the broken bodies and shattered lives and couldn't help but put Dick back into that picture, first as a devastated sobbing child and now as a confident professional. As long as he didn't fall. As long as the ropes held. As long as nothing went wrong.

The drum roll started, the safety net was dropped to the ground, "Alfred, did you know about this? If the damn net had been used he wouldn't have been orphaned, for the love of God. How can he even consider…"

"He wants to impress you, sir."

"Stupid. Stupid, reckless, foolhardy…" The long swing, the split second timing of the release immediately going into the turns almost too fast to count, straightening out, catch and final swing back to the platform. Applause, bow and a special wave to the skybox with that big smile on his face and laughter because he'd done in on his own terms. "I can't believe he'd do something that dangerous just to hear some applause from an arena full of strangers."

"It wasn't the strangers he wants to impress, sir, and I would suggest you keep that in mind when you speak to him."

_John picked up the remote: "You're proud, as proud of him as though he were your own son and you're going to make sure he knows that. You're not going to say anything about being worried he couldn't turn or land the stunt and you're most definitely not in any way let him know you're angry he decided to tour with his old friends during his summer break. Furthermore, when Christmas break comes around, you will suggest that the two of you get away together to either ski or visit your home in the Caribbean and while you're there, you will use every opportunity to let Dick know exactly just how glad you are that he's in your life and how much you love him." There, that would make Mary happy._

Four months later while they were spending the two week Christmas break at Bruce's house in the Bahamas, Dick was awarded his certificate proving he was a fully qualified scuba diver and as he shyly showed the paper and card to Bruce, was surprised by the arm around his shoulder and the hand ruffling his hair as Bruce told him how proud he was. "You know? I was thinking that the work you've done with the Titans is pretty good. In fact, I think it might not be a bad idea if you kids were willing to join forces with the Justice League now and then. What do you say?"

"You're serious?" Dick wasn't sure about this, Bruce had, as far as he knew, never invited anyone, anywhere to work with the JL.

"Have you ever known me to joke?"

That made Dick stop. Had he? In the almost four years he'd been living and working with Bruce, had he ever heard the man actually joke about anything? Well, no and that was a shame, but if he really thought the Titans were ready to work in the major leagues, who was he to disagree?

"Next case—we're there! Partners?"

Bruce put his arm around Dick's shoulder. He actually out his arm around him. "Partners."

_John and Mary watched this on the large TV in the living room. Back when they were alive and all living together, they couldn't really do this, they couldn't do the deed like this right out in the open in front of the fireplace (Which was another weird thing about this place, no matter what the tempreture, hot or cold, snow or fire, it was always comfortable. Go figure.). They'd be worried about Dick or someone walking in but up here…well, things were different._

"_It worked out well, didn't it?"_

_Mary nodded against his chest. "John? I miss having to bribe Dick to leave for an hour or two."_

"_So do I."_

tbc

7


	4. Chapter 4

**Watching**

**Eight Years Ago**

"But…"

"I said no, now drop it."

"C'mon, Bruce…"

A glare silenced any further protest as Bruce turned and walked out of the room, leaving Dick sitting at the dining room table alone with the remnants of the meal. He hadn't even asked for that much, just a weekend off so he could go on the class trip to an amusement park in what was being billed as a practical experience in physics and was, in fact, a weekend at an amusement park. The problem was that Catwoman was out again and Bruce—excuse me—Batman had decreed that Robin was expected to aid in her recapture. Period.

Alfred silently started clearing the table. "You seem to have lost your normal appetite, Master Dick. Is something troubling you?" Alfred, of course, knew exactly what the problem was and Dick knew he knew. "Perhaps I might have a word with him."

"Don't bother." Normally Dick helped clear the table but tonight he tossed his napkin down with a bit too much force and left to work it off down in the gym, hoping Bruce wouldn't be there. Oh dear, these little tiffs were becoming more and more common and though Alfred tried to explain to the Master that Master Dick was at the age where he needed to be granted a bit more independence and leeway, his words were falling on deaf ears. The problem wouldn't go away and would only become worse and Alfred feared what could happen, given the two personalities involved. Master Dick showed signs of being just as stubborn and head strong as Bruce was at that age and he'd been a handful, indeed.

"_John, did you see that? That horrid man did it again—I can't believe he won't let Dick go on that class trip. I mean, really!"_

_John looked up from the side of the pool. He'd been doing laps and trying to convince Mary to join him before going over to the Wallenda's for dinner but she was glued in front of the TV as usual. "I'm sure it will all work out. C'mon, Mare, you can't guide every little thing and smooth out every little bump in the road for him; that's not helping him. You know he has to learn how to deal with these things for himself."_

"_Of course I know that" It wasn't like Mary to snap, but snapping she was today. "But that man!" She had the remote again._

"_Ann said to be careful not to over use that thing or you'll spoil the boy and he'll never learn to stand on his own two feet. Now put that down and swim with me." That usually worked…_

"_If any child in the world can stand on his own two feet, it's Dick but that man is impossible." The look she gave him left no question as to what she thought of that idea and John knew he was defeated before he'd even started._

Three days later Dick had permission to go on the trip and while not about to ask too many questions which could easily lead to a reversal, wondered what had come over Bruce to make him change his mind. Well, whatever—and while Medusa or Nitro weren't quite like flying with Superman, it still made for a pretty cool afternoon. And then there was just being able to kick back, hang with some of the other kids in his class he'd never had the chance to get to know—or vice versa—and find out that he actually liked some of them and wouldn't mind spending more time with them. Maybe when they got home he could go to some movies and stuff and start to shake the label of being a rich snob too hung up to lower himself to mingle with the peasants. Okay, sure it was great being in the Titans and he liked, okay, he loved having them as his best friends but that was kind of like work, too and these kids were just, well, they were just kids whose idea of a rough day were math and science tests on the same day. The Titans idea of a rough day was fighting an escaped lunatic with superpowers threatening a major city.

Don't mistake things, though—they had a great time when the Titans all got together. Garth was kinda shy, but really smart and didn't miss anything—and he was about the only one who could put Roy in his place with just the right snark comment delivered with this innocent look no one else could quite match. Wally was the complete wholesome boy next door, who'd do anything for you including running from Central City to Gotham in ninety seconds because he forgot to tell you something that afternoon and Donna—jeez, they were all a little in love with Donna. They were great and they were his friends—real friends and that was incredible. They were the only ones who really understood what it was like being them but sometimes Dick really just wanted to kick back and maybe go to a movie or something with kids who couldn't fly or live a mile underwater. You know, _normal_.

Titans were incredible, but a high school football game was okay, too. Two days being plain old normal and pretending that a roller coaster was a big deal was just what exactly what he needed.

It was all in your perspective, right?

Then he got home.

Cripes.

It seemed that while Dick was away for one weekend, for two stupid days, all hell had broken loose in Gotham and now Bruce seemed intent on blaming him personally.

"I said, I told you that I needed you around because Catwoman was out and against my better judgment—very much against it, I add—you spent two days riding roller coasters. Amusement park rides while I'm fighting single handedly!"

"Oh, c'mon, Bruce. You said I could go and you could have called in anyone in the JLA—you _are_ a member, remember? All for one and one for all and all that? You didn't have to go solo. You wanted to so you could ream me out and try to lay a guilt trip on me when I got back."

Bruce looked like he was about to pop a vein, in fact he was so angry he went all quiet and that was never a good sign with him. In fact, it was one of the things you wanted to watch out for because it meant you were about to get slammed one way or another and it wouldn't be pretty and there would be no appeal. "That's enough out of you and you may consider yourself grounded until further notice."

"What? Why, because I went on a class trip you gave me permission to go on? That's horseshit!"

Alfred went white and Bruce went speechless for a moment. "Upstairs. Now."

Every line of his back registering exactly what he thought of this, Dick walked up the huge staircase without looking back, leaving Bruce and Alfred a bit stunned at the bottom. Dick had stood up to Bruce-Robin had stood up to Batman and refused to back down. Yes, he'd gone upstairs, but he hadn't conceded anything.

"You realize that he did have your approval to go."

"I know he did, but he also was supposed to be checking in to see if anything was happening in case I needed him. He didn't do that and as a result it took me at least an extra twenty-four hours to apprehend Selina again. He has no business pretending he's 'just another kid' when we all know he's anything but."

Alfred actually sighed in exasperation. "Master Bruce, must I remind you that the young master is still, in almost every sense of the word, a child? He's barely fifteen years old and, despite this, has been working for his living since he was virtually a toddler. He watched the tragedy of his parent's murders and he survived the bureaucratic misstep of incarcerating him in a juvenile prison. He has dome everything you've asked of him; his school grades are exemplary, his general behavior is above reproach and he does this while leading the Teen Titans and acting as your back up and confidant. It is beyond me what you find to complain about."

Bruce gave Alfred one of his better glares, which was completely ignored as Alfred continued. "He is everything and more you could have hoped for him to be and I would think that, instead of berating him for some perceived failure, you would consider complimenting him on his numerous achievements before he finds some else who will." Alfred picked up Dick's dropped and forgotten bag from the trip. "Now, I believe there is some laundry needing my attention."

"_John. John! I thought I'd seen that horrid man behave like an ass before, but this time he takes the cake. I swear, he's outdone himself and poor Dick is taking the brunt of it, as usual."_

_John was just walking in from a training session with Karl Wallenda. Ever since the Graysons had been up here, they'd been making friends, lots and lots of friends, but John and Karl just really seemed to hit it off and were now working on what they both thought of as 'the ultimate trap/high wire routine ever seen by man'. They had this idea where by they were going to combine the two disciplines into one incredible act and…_

"_John, are you listening to me? Dick is up in his room almost in tears and you know he never cries. That man…" _

_By now John would usually roll his eyes when Mary went off on r the latest indignity Dick was undergoing but this time he looked at the screen and saw red. She was right and for Dick to be in the state he was in, pacing, muttering to himself and finally picking up the phone to vent a rant at Roy Harper was enough for the protective Rom father in John to rear up and defend his cub. Mary was right; Wayne was as idiot as far as dealing with a child was concerned and he needed to be dealt with. John had kept his mouth shut during some of the astoundingly insensitive and boneheaded comments and actions Dick had endured, but this took the cake. Enough was enough. He relieved Mary of the remote and aimed it at Batman out on patrol, alone, without Robin who was still in his room feeling unwanted, unloved, unneeded and unhappy._

"_You are going to rethink what you just said to Dick. You are going to cut your patrol short and you're going back home. You will go up to Dick's room, wake him if he's asleep and you will—kindly and with genuine remorse and regret—apologize. Then you will tell Dick how fabulous the job he's doing as Robin truly is. You will tell him how proud you are about his grades and his accomplishments with the Titans and then you will keep your head out of your butt whenever you deal with my son from this night on because he is not your son, he is mine and if you don't you will deal with me and will make your comic book enemies look like the cartoon characters they are."_

Bruce quietly pushed the door to Dick's room open at just past midnight, knew Dick was just pretending to be asleep and so didn't bother to turn on the light. He sat on the edge of the bed and thought for a moment about how he was going to handle this and wondering what he was doing here. He had no idea why or where it came from, but he had a sudden and unbeatable urge to come home and tell Dick how proud he was and how lucky he was to have him in the house and in his and Alfred's lives. Okay, he thought tat all the time, but it wasn't the kind of thing you went around saying out loud. Certainly it wasn't the kind of thing you said out loud in the Wayne family, anyway. People know you care about them, you don't have to keep talking about it all the time. But tonight…

"You know how I feel about you, don't you Dick? If you weren't here this place really would be the mausoleum you used to call it. I know I'm hard on you but you also know it's because I'm worried about you and if I push it's because I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you. I mean something serious."

No answer, but Bruce knew Dick was listening.

"You're the reason this place has music in it again and kids. Did you know I never rode the quads around the property until you moved in? The places in Aspen and the Bahamas? The never got used until we started going there together. Okay, I know, I overreacted about this weekend and you were right to get mad—you should have heard Alfred after you came upstairs. He told me off like he used to when I was ten and forgot to wipe my feet or feed the dog. He scared me then and he scares me now."

There still wasn't a sound or so much as a hair moving from Dick. He was listening to every word.

"So what I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry, chum. I was wrong and I shouldn't have lost my cool the way I did. You're doing a great job and we both know it so get some rest, okay?"

Nothing. Sighing to himself and a bit hurt Bruce stood up, hoping Dick would say something to stop him, but he still refused to budge and Bruce left, closing the door behind him.

"Did you speak to him, sir?"

"Yes, Alfred, I did. I told him I was wrong and that I'm proud of him. Satisfied?"

"The question isn't whether I'm satisfied, but whether he is, sir."

_Mary looked at the TV screen. "That man—I could strangle him."

* * *

_

"Hey, Roy? Did you hear all that?"

"Fuckin' A I did. That was awesome. No one, I mean _no one_ will believe the Bat apologized to the sidekick."

"I know. This stays between us, right?"

"You got it. Later, dude."

"Later."

Dick closed the cell phone in his hand, the one he'd been talking to Speedy on when he heard Bruce come down the hall, slipped it into the recharger on his nightstand and smiled.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Watching**

** Five Years Ago**

"I know that, but maybe I could take a year off before I start college. I mean, why not?"

"Because you know as well as I do that if you put it off for a year, you may well never go back. Besides, what do you propose to do for a year if you're not in school?"

"I want to work full time as Robin, hone the things I may be a little shaky on now, get to a really top level, better than I am now and maybe that would be the best thing in the long run. I mean, c'mon, Bruce—no one in my family ever went to college and besides, it's not like I'm going to be on the streets if I don't get a degree."

"And where do you suggest you do this 'honing'?"

"Here, where else?" Dick hadn't expected that question and it took him back a little bit—a weakness he knew Bruce could and likely would exploit.

Bruce was staring a challenge at him, daring him to explain himself in a way that would be acceptable and probably betting that was impossible. "You expect to live off of me for the rest of your life?"

The comment was dripping with sarcasm and Dick was caught a little flatfooted—and as kicking himself for that. He knew better when dealing with Bruce, he'd known better since he was ten years old. "I didn't say that and it's not what I meant. I said no one in my family ever went to college and they all did just fine. I can make money, Bruce. I mean, hell; I started working when I was four years old. I know how to work." Dick hated this conversation. He hated knowing he was disappointing Bruce and he hated knowing he would rather open a vein than study business like Bruce expected him to but that was the truth. Couldn't he just major in something he was more interested in? Sure he could, but he flat out didn't want to spend the next four or six years sitting in a classroom studying when he could be out doing things that mattered a whole lot more to him than writing papers on subjects he didn't care about.

Bruce just wasn't having any of it. He'd been planning for this ever since he realized that Dick was smart enough to do whatever he wanted and what Bruce wanted was an heir to the throne of Wayne Enterprises. He wanted to be able to pull back a bit and let someone else hold the corporate reins. Plus there was no reason to think he'd be around forever and Dick was the anointed fair haired boy, whether he liked it or not. Damnit, he thought Dick knew this and it hadn't occurred to him Dick had a problem with this. He'd never said anything before and so everything seemed to be falling into place like it were all preordained.

Bruce took a couple of breaths; he didn't want this getting too heated and that was where it would end up if they weren't careful. Dick would walk through fire for him and Bruce knew that, but right now it was sounding like Dick wanted to take a detour first.

Later that evening, just before he was about to get ready for patrol Bruce asked Alfred. "Am I being too hard on him? Should I let him take a year off even if it means he might never go back to school?"

"A young man needs to fellow his own path, you of all people should know that."

"He's so smart, he needs the stimulation, and the exposure to everything a really good school could open him to."

"If it's meant to be, if he has the interest, he'll go—if not now then later. I prefer not to stoop to clichés about leading a horse to water and than having the steed decline a drink, but I'm sure you would agree that unless Master Dick wants to be at a university, he'll pay it passing interest at best and might well spend his time more productively elsewhere."

"_John, did you hear that? He's actually considering allowing Dick to skip college."_

"_If the boy isn't sure it's what he wants, that might be the best idea for now. And he didn't actually say he would skip it completely, he just said he wanted to wait a year or so."_

"_Of course he has to go. He's much too smart not to."_

"_He's also smart enough to know what he wants and what he doesn't. Let him make up his own mind, Mary."_

"_When he was six he decided he wanted to eat two entire bags of candy and you let him. He was sick for three days."_

"_And he learned not to do it again, didn't he? Let him make his own decisions, let him make his own mistakes. Let him learn."_

"Hey Grayson, I heard you scored a friggin 1550? Dude, you _are_ robo-student."

The scores for the last rounds of SAT's were out and the word spread pretty fast. Jamie Sylvester had made an almost impossible 1600, but Grayson had been close enough with a 1557.

"Eh."

"What 'eh'? Mister Wayne must be ecstatic to know your blood has potential to turn as blue as his."

"Mister Wayne will be ecstatic if I get a MBA from Harvard, take over the corner office at WE and free him up to sharpen his putting skills when he's not out getting laid." 'Had to keep up Bruce's vacuous image, after all.

"'Sounds to me like Mister Wayne has things figured out just fine. Catch you later, dude."

"Later." Yes, so it seemed. Bruce was happy with his score and he was happy that it seemed to say that Dick would be at least applying to some good places but Dick still wasn't sure college was what he wanted to do. In fact, he was pretty sure it wasn't and he wanted to just flat out make Bruce understand that, but it wasn't as easy as just kind of dropping the shoe over the bananas flambé or tooling along in the Batmobile. He knew Bruce expected him to think it over and realize the best thing for him would be to apply to the Ivy League or, in a nod towards slumming, the Big Ten and get the degrees that were pretty much required. Yes, he knew that.

The problem was that he simply didn't want to.

(Note: for our non-yank friends, the SATs are the Scholastic Aptitude Tests taken by high school students wanting to go to a university or college and play a medium/large part in college acceptances. 1,600 was a perfect score before the scoring was changed this year. Most kids take two tests, English and math and could score up to 800 on each. The two scores were added, giving you the total. The conventional wisdom in my day was that you got 400 for writing your name correctly, anything over 1,000 was decent and above 1500 meant you could go almost anywhere, as long as you had the grades to back it up.)

* * *

"So why don't you just tell Bruce?"

The twice-monthly Titan's meeting had just ended and the kids were sitting around eating the usual pizza. Donna knew something was bothering Dick, but for him to come out and talk about a problem was pretty unusual and told her just how upset he really was. Well, she'd just make him talk to her.

"Because it's not that easy. I mean, after my parents were killed, he was the only one who made any effort at all for me. He took me in, trained me, gave me a way to get rid of the anger and showed me how I could make some kind of a difference. In his convoluted way, he's supported me and done what he thinks is right for me."

"That's all true, but this is your life, Robbie, not his. You have to do what's going to make you happy."

"I know that, but how am I supposed to be happy if I know that what I'm doing is disappointing him?"

The other three were listening, Garth seemed to be nodding along with what Dick was saying and so was Wally but Roy was another story. "So you're saying you owe him four more years of your life just because he'll be bent if you let him know the track he has you on isn't necessarily where you want to be going? That's bullshit, Robbie and you know it. If he cares so much about you, he wants what will make you happy."

"To thine own self be true, Roy?" Wally took the last slice of pepperoni as he walked by to flop down in an easy chair.

"Yeah, sure. Dick should do what's going to work for him, not what Bruce wants. Hell's bells, he's already Junior Bat now, the last thing he needs is to be Bruce Junior, too. I mean, who on the entire planet would need that?—except—does he really get laid as much as they say?"

Dick just gave Roy a dirty look and left. Donna, furious at Roy yet again, went home alone and refused his called for a good two weeks.

* * *

"So Dick, have you decided where you want to apply?"

Bruce had wandered into Dick's room after he'd gotten back from the Titan's meeting and had, oh so casually, brought up the subject of college applications. Subtle as a brick, as they say—if he ignored the fact that Dick didn't want to go to college, maybe that pesky little fact would go away.

"Well, like I was saying, maybe I'll take a year to work, maybe do some traveling on my own and then go to school." And when the year is up, with any chance the whole thing would die down and I can just get on with my life and make my own plans.

Bruce sat straddled backwards on the straight-backed desk chair, his hands on the back in front of him and nodded. "That might work out but I think that if you apply now and get your acceptances, you'll be in a more secure position later on. You'll have a better idea about what you're doing and it will be easier to make plans." And then when he got this teenaged wanderlust through his system, he could settle down.

"I was thinking that I don't really want to go Ivy League." No kidding. "It seems a bit effete for me, y'know? I'm still basically a circus rat, even with Alfred's polishing."

"No problem with that. You were thinking Big Ten, then?" This was good; at least he was talking about picking a school.

"They're all pretty big, aren't they? I don't know if I want a place with like thirty thousand students." Maybe Haley's circus would work out, small, friendly…

"Some place smaller? Understandable but you realize that will make it harder for Robin to blend in and get lost in a crowd." Or to have Batman or the Titans visit.

"I know, but I should be able to deal with that." Especially since I expect to never have the problem come up.

"Have you given thought to a major yet?" Business, obviously.

"Not really, I thought I'd start with a general program and then see what looks interesting." And anything but business.

"Well, all right. I'll have Lucius look into schools that may fit some of your criteria—do you know what part of the country you might like to be in?" Clearly close enough you can get home to work on cases when I call.

"I hadn't really narrowed that down, maybe New York or something so I can get to Titan's headquarters? You don't expect me to live here and go to school do you?" You're kidding, right?

"No, of course not, living on campus is an important part of college life." And I can still keep an eye on you that way.

"But I don't think we need Lucius for this, I'll talk to my counselor Monday." Don't show up, don't show up. I'll handle this.

"Fine, but let me know what he says, all right? Now, finish your homework and let's get going on patrol." I'll call that counselor tomorrow and talk to him.

"_John, did you see what just happened? That man is going to allow Dick to skip college."_

"_That's not what happened, he just agreed to let Dick take a year off between high school and going on and I don't see a problem with that. Let the kid have some freedom for God's sake; he's been working since he was four years old, he needs to kick up his heels a bit, follow his feet a little."_

"_You would say that."_

"_Gypsy. Gypsy is in my blood and my soul, m'darlin'"_

"_And Dick is your son. Sometimes I think he might have a little too much of you in him for his own good." _

_John came around the couch and put his arms around her. "You never minded, missy, you never did and you know that's no lie. In fact, I'm thinking it's time the boy started turning his thoughts to the ways of love. You have that remote?"_

_She laughed, half afraid he was serious and knowing Dick could take care of himself as far as girlfriends were concerned. Well, probably, anyway. She'd be watching him about that._

_An hour later she snuck out to the living room while John was sleeping and turned on the TV. A couple of months had gone by while they weren't paying attention and now Dick was looking through his college acceptances—and there were so many! He was so smart; he always was, even when he was just little. She found the remote under a throw pillow and hit the 'on' button._

"_Dick, sweetheart, you're going to college and you're going in the fall just like Bruce was hoping. You've given it a lot of thought and you realize that he's right. If you take a break now you may never go back and you're too smart to let a chance like this slip away without even giving it a try. There are four good schools right there in your hands and you know you could probably go anywhere you want, all you have to do is make up your mind. You're going to make Bruce and Alfred happy by going and you know that and after all they've done for you, it's the least you can do. You're going to decide which place you want to attend. You'll do that tonight and then you'll tell Bruce this weekend. And remember that I love you, my darling."_

Saturday night Bruce was just starting on his dessert when Dick cleared his throat. "Um, I've made a decision about school."

"Yes"

"Hudson. I think I'd like to try Hudson in September."

Bruce looked slightly taken aback. "But you said you wanted to take a year off."

"I know, but I've changed my kind and I think this is the best way to go." Dick put down his fork. "And I think business would be a useful thing for me to know something about. Is that okay with you?"

* * *

It lasted until Thanksgiving when Dick went home for the holiday. He asked Bruce if he had a minute an hour before he was due to go back to school. "Bruce? This isn't, I mean…Look, I don't think school is really, I mean that, um, well, I'm thinking about not going back after the semester is over."

"But…I thought you liked it up there. All your letters sounded like you were enjoying yourself, and you were talking about a girl you're seeing. This sounds a little hasty to me."

"I was, at first, but it's just not what I want to do. I tried, I really did, but I just can't get into the classes—all those stats and business strategies are so frigging dry. I've done some work as Robin, but it's too quiet up there, no real action, y'know?"

"I do know, as a matter of fact." Truth be told, Bruce hated stats, too. "But you can transfer to a larger school or one in a city where there'd be more for you to do. And what about your girlfriend?"

"Lori dumped me two weeks ago and I don't want to go straight into another school just now. I just don't; I want to take a break from class work."

"Have you thought about what you'd like to do next?" Was this about the girl?

"I'm working on that." Dick just gave a slight shrug. "And no, this doesn't have anything to do with losing my girlfriend. It's not like it was true love or anything."

He really wished he'd just taken that year off to get his ideas together before it got to this point. He'd disappointed Bruce and Alfred and now he felt like a complete loser but he couldn't just stay up at Hudson. He hated it. He hated the classes, the smug students, the arrogant professors and the assumption that because Bruce Wayne was his guardian and by sucking up to Dick, the school could hit him up for a new gym or science building. He'd think of something. Hell, he was still Robin and that wasn't chopped liver.

_John came out of the bedroom in time to see his wife watching this on the TV, remote still in her hand. "Mary, what have you done now?"_

_TBC_


	6. Chapter 6

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**Watching**

**  
Four Years Ago**

"Screw this, Bruce. You can't do this—I _am_ Robin, he's not something you own—I'm not one of your damn paintings or another antique car to put in storage_. I_ brought the character of Robin to life. _I_ made him. _I'm_ the one who turned him into his own entity and _I'm_ the one who controls him—not you."

"Robin is retired and I'm not going to discuss this with you, do you understand? I've made up my mind and you're going to abide by it."

"Like hell I am. You can't tell me what to do anymore. I'm not a kid—I'm nineteen and I can make my own decisions."

"You are my employee and you've been removed from the job for your own protection. I'll be working alone from now on and I'm not going to listen to any of your arguments."

"No way in hel…"

"Stop. Don't even finish that sentence."

"Screw this, Bruce and screw you. Fine. Whatever. Take Robin; I can do something else, I can _be_ someone else and I don't need your permission."

"You're through going out and you're through patrolling; I can stop you and I will because it's in your best interest that I do so. And you will stop behaving like a spoiled child and forget any idea you may have about calling Clark or the JLA and I suggest you explain this to the Titans as well. Robin is out of the business and so are you and that's final."

"Bullshit."

Bruce didn't deign to respond to the vulgarity but instead quietly closed Dick's door as he walked out of the room, leaving Dick alone and in pain from the surgery to remove Joker's bullet from his shoulder.

Goddamn him! He couldn't just give orders and expect to be obeyed as if he were God. Dick was beyond furious and outraged didn't begin to touch it, either. He was stunned, hurt and felt as if everything he'd based his life on for the last ten years had been—what? A waste of time? A mistake? This was, this was…he'd gone too far this time. Dick wasn't a child any more, whether Bruce chose to see him as one or not. He was a young man and one who had done things most people can't even dream about. He could make his own decisions and choices and he was going to, the hell with what Bruce wanted.

"Master Dick, please. I know this morning hasn't gone as you may have wanted, but I beg you; don't make any decisions whilst you're still digesting the events of the past twenty-four hours."

Dick hadn't even noticed Alfred bringing a tray into the room and wasn't surprised to hear him, as usual, trying to get him top calm down after one of Batman and Robin's blowups. It wasn't like he hadn't gotten enough practice the last couple of years or anything and frankly Dick was flat out tired of the constant arguments.

"It's not fair that you're always in the middle of these things, Alf. I'm sorry about this."

Alfred set the tray at the end of the bed, handed Dick a couple of pills and a glass of water. "Sometimes I rather think my role in this house has become similar to that of Switzerland between two warring superpowers, trying to contain things before all Hell breaks loose."

Dick almost tried a small smile and might well have succeeded if he hadn't been so depressed, angry and in so much pain. "Sometimes you're right, except one of the powers holds most of the cards."

Alfred picked up a cup of soup and handed it to Dick. "Sip that and don't spill it." He spread a large napkin over Dick's chest and the bandages covering his injured shoulder, the massive bruising visible above and below the stark white gauze and tape. "If the play isn't to your liking, you may want to consider changing the game."

"_Oh John, just look at him, and that horrid man had the audacity to yell at him and berate him when he's recovering from surgery after being shot! I loathe him, I really do."_

"_He'll cope with it. He's strong and he'll be all right."_

"_But look at him…"_

"_Mary, he's going to be fine."_

"_Hand me the remote, I have to…"_

"_No, you don't. Not this time."_

"Take these, if you please. " Alfred handed Dick three of the pills Leslie Thompkins prescribed, warning them the combination could cause him to have vivid dreams when the painkillers were combined with the needed sedatives...

_He was walking through a house that bore a passing resemblance to the old trailer except that it was huge, much better appointed and he wondered how it was he could wonder while he was dreaming. What happened to the old trailer? Where was it? Sold, he supposed and the money held for him somewhere is an account or a trust or something. He could ask Bruce, Bruce would know but right now he didn't care._

_He found the door to a back yard or patio and saw his parents sitting on lounge chairs by a beautiful pool, drinking what looked like iced tea and chatting with some other people. It was friendly, relaxed and was probably a cookout or something. A couple of kids splashed in the pool and Dick wondered—wondering again—if they belonged to his parents. Somehow he wasn't surprised to see them, but then he'd been dreaming about them since the night they died. They looked just as they had ten years ago, they hadn't aged, they hadn't gained any weight and they didn't have any gray hair. They were exactly as he remembered them._

"_Sweetheart, I'm so glad you came." His mother had her arms around him and was kissing his cheek, just the way she used to. "Look at you, you've gotten so tall!"_

"_You look wonderful son. The world treating you all right, is it?" His father had his hand on Dick's shoulder and was giving it a gentle squeeze, just the way he used to before he gave Dick one of his big bear hugs as well._

"_Mom…Dad…? But how…?"_

"_Oh don't be so surprised, you know we've always been there for you, you thought a little thing like being dead was going to stop that?" His dad's smile broke out, the one that meant the two of them were in on the joke and somehow his parents being dead and looking after him anyway seemed like about the best one either of them ever heard. "Okay, I want to talk to you about what you've been up to, but first I think you'd like to meet the Wallenda's; Karl? Come on over here and meet my son."_

"_...This is the boy with the quad all the fuss is about? Let me shake your hand, young man…"_

_A few hours later, after the other people had finally left and the fire in the grill had died down to embers, John sat Dick on one of the lounges while Mary finished up in the kitchen. Okay, it was a little sexist, but sometimes a father and son needed time to talk._

"_Back with Haley's, we had fun, didn't we, Dad?"_

"_The best. Flying fifty feet up without a net, the crowd below you clapping, the music playing—it didn't get much better than that and that's the God's honest truth. It looks to me like you still have fun when you work—that's a gift, Dick. Remember what I used to tell you about that? Most people just work for a living—we lived for a living." _

"_It was the best. I still see Pop, did you know? I'm thinking about touring with them this summer."_

"_This you're way of telling me you're looking for a job? What's this about you getting fired?"_

"_You saw that?"_

"_Of course we did and it happens to everyone sooner or later. Now what are you going to do about it?"_

_This was hard and Dick didn't want to get into this—he wanted to just talk with his parents, make sure they were the ones doing all right and that there wasn't anything they needed. _

"_Dick? C'mon, son, we never used to have any secrets, remember?" John tossed a twig into the grill, causing a small flame to flare up before it died down again._

_Okay. "It's not just the getting fired. I mean, I know why Bruce did it and all, but the thing that really bothers me is that he didn't just can me—he negated everything I've done as Robin for the last ten years. Everything I've done, all the things I worked for and thought I was accomplishing—as me, as Robin, he told me there was no Robin without him, that he pulls all the strings and that without his approval I—Robin—doesn't exist."_

"_And?"_

"_And? And I'm the one who brought Robin to life. I'm the one who put him on the 'most wanted' list for every major criminal and crime organization on the planet. I did that, not Batman and now he says I can't function without his say-so."_

"_No, what he said was that Robin was retired and wasn't going out any more. That's not the same thing."_

_Dick stopped and looked over at his father. "What? You're saying I can work alone under a different name?"_

"_I'm stating the obvious solution you didn't want to see for yourself because you've tied yourself to Bruce."_

"_Yeah, but…"_

"_No 'yeah but'. You know that's true. All right, you have Bruce to thank for giving you the police and detective training to do what you want and you have me to thank for giving you the athletic training and work ethic to be able to make the complete package, but you're the one who made the decision to do the work, both for me and for him. That was all you and you can transfer that training and experience down a little different path if you want to or you can whine about how he done you wrong." John took a pull on his beer. "And you're the one with the personality to get along with the others and make them listen to what you're saying. You think Bruce could lead the Justice League or make the Titans work together the way you can? Not a snowball's chance."_

_Dick didn't say anything for a while, just digested what his father was telling him. He was right, Bruce and John Grayson offered him the training, but he was the one who took it and made it work. But he'd always, well almost always worked with a partner. In fact he'd always been the back up, the sidekick, the junior partner…_

"_Yes, that's true, you were, but you're not twelve anymore, son."_

"_You can read my mind?" That was even more disconcerting than sitting here having a heart to heart with his ten years dead father._

"_Nah, but I can read your face like a book and I always could. You're thinking you work better with someone. Now maybe you're right and maybe you're wrong about that, but I don't know any laws that say Robin can only work with Batman. It seems to me you've done just fine with the Titans and I don't recall ever seeing Batman setting foot in the place."_

_The silence stretched over long minutes again as Dick mulled this over, too. "I can't live with Bruce now, not the way things stand between us."_

"_You both need to let some water go under the bridge before you're ready to sit down together." John got up and pulled two beers from the cooler Dick could have sworn wasn't there a minute ago. "You have plenty of places to go, so you won't be on the street but don't cut off Alfred, son. You'll break his heart if you did."_

_His beer was already opened and cold when Dick took the first drink. "I'm underage."_

"_Don't tell your mother." The two of them watched the embers gliding up into the dark for a while._

"…_Dad?" This was amazing, tonight with his parents was something he'd dreamed about since they'd been killed but Dick was getting the sense that it was almost over and their time was almost up. "Are you and Mom okay?"_

"_We're good and we're happy here sand you don't have to think anything different, this place is everything it's cracked up to be. We have friends and we can watch you Dick, and we're so damn proud of you—you've no idea; you're like the best parts of both of us put together and then you just kept getting better from there. We're going to keep looking out for you and I'll do what I can to sit on your mother. She worries about you, you know. She's afraid you'll get hurt so be careful for her sake, will you?"_

_He smiled because this was getting too heavy. "I'm always careful, Dad, you know that." God, he hadn't been able to call anyone 'Dad' in a decade._

"_See that you are, especially with that damn motorcycle of yours. That scares the hell out of me when I see the things you do. You're not immortal, you can break and we don't want to see you back here any time soon, you understand me? I mean that, Dick—I expect you to get another seventy years or so back there." The two of them finished their beers and got up as Mary was coming out of the house. _

"_We'll be watching out for you, sweetheart, you know that but you be careful anyway, do you hear me? I want to see our grandchildren, lots and lots of grandchildren." She hugged him and kissed his cheek, like she did when he was little, but now she was reaching up to do so and he felt his father's arms going around his shoulders as the dream faded out.

* * *

_

"How is he, Alfred?"

Where on earth did the smell of beer come from? "Just waking up, sir. I believe the sedation is finally wearing off so it will be a bit before he's really with us." Alfred adjusted the bedding and carefully rearranged the pillows under Dick's head. "Dr. Thompkins said to expect him to be groggy for a while but that with the required physical therapy, in time he should make a full recovery."

"Good." Bruce nodded. "In that case I'll go out and see if he's more awake when I finish patrol. He's not to get out of that bed until Leslie approves it, tie him down if you have to. And if he asks, I meant every word about Robin retiring." Alfred sighed as the master left for the evening, knowing how hard this would be on them all. And in the end what would this accomplish other than anger and hurt?

An hour later Alfred was changing Dick's dressing only to find him fully awake but quiet and seemingly with his mind a million miles away—understandable under the circumstances, of course. "Is there something I can get you, Master Dick?"

He shook his head. "I've been thinking while I was lying here and I've made some decisions, Alf, but I want you to know I'd never cut you off. No matter what happens between me and Bruce, it doesn't involve you, okay?"

Alfred straightened up, understanding what the young master was telling him; he was going as soon as possible and he would be gone a long time. "Nor I you, sir. You've my word on that."

"You don't have to worry about me, Alf. I'll be okay."

"I've always known that about you, Master Dick, but you'll understand if I continue to worry very much, very much indeed. One does with family, you know."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

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**Part Seven**

**Two Years Ago**

The day started out less than stellar. The alarm didn't go off. There was no hot water for the shower. He was out of coffee. The last piece of bread was moldy. He'd meant to pack his uniform last night but had forgotten after an all night stake out for that heroin ring down at the docks he'd finally shut down. Now he was having trouble finding all the components he needed plus a gym bag to put them all in for the trip to the station. A button popped off his only clean uniform shirt. His new shoes killed his feet. His cycle, his new Ninja wouldn't turn over and he ended up with sprayed motor oil on his uniform pants from coaxing it into starting. He hit traffic. It started to rain. By the time he got to the station he was thinking it had to go up from here.

Parking his bike in as secure a place as he could find and chaining it to a lamppost, he walked in the front door of the precinct, presenting himself to the desk sergeant, like he'd been told to do. "I'm Grayson, reporting in. I was just assigned."

The man, who was at least two hundred and fifty pounds of donut flab didn't even look up. "Find yourself an empty locker, get changed and go to the briefing room, second floor. You're late."

Dick found a seat in the back, after the morning's briefing had started with the Lieutenant giving him a hard look as his foot caught a chair leg, causing someone's cup of coffee to spill. After getting paper towels in the bathroom, he'd missed half of the meeting. Shit. Luckily he caught the nametag of the woman beside him "You're Amy Rohrbach, right? I believe we've assigned together."

"So you're the newbie I've been hearing about—rich, pretty and Daddy bought you your commission. Congratulations. Now let's get in the car, keep your mouth shut and your head down. And that's _Sergeant_ Rohrbach to you, kid. And _I_ drive."

His first day consisted of two muggings, a purse snatch, suspected arson with pages of paperwork and a talk with a bunch of third graders in their falling apart elementary school during which Amy did all the talking and the teacher spent an hour hitting on Officer Grayson in the rear of the classroom. On the way back to the station house they happened upon a group of teenagers harassing a man who looked to be your basic businessman with a three piece suit an a briefcase. Seeing the squad car they started jeering and throwing bottles but took off when Amy gave started to pull over. The kids headed into alleys and over fences, anyplace the car couldn't follow so Dick did what came naturally to him and gave chase on foot with Amy yelling at him to get back in the Goddamned car. Three blocks later she caught up—he had two of the kids cuffed and two more standing quietly to the side, cowed and apologetic. And Dick knew he'd made a total bonehead move.

"Excuse me? You always do this kind of thing your first day on the job?"

"I know these kids, Sergeant and they know me so they let me catch them, okay? They're not bad kids, they were just being stupid and acting tough." He actually did know these kids from his Nightwing patrols and they weren't as tough as they pretended. In fact, they were good kids if given half a chance but they needed their wrists slapped a little if they were going to go to the right side of things and this could do it.

She called for back up to get the kids down to the station then turned to Dick. "Look, I don't give a rat's ass what you're used to, but you pull something that stupid again and I'll have your balls for breakfast, you understand me, Grayson? You didn't know if they were armed, if they had friends waiting to jump you—you didn't know anything, you just ran off like some Goddamned superhero. This is the real world and in the real world we have a way of doing things and going off half cocked isn't on the list. You want to finish out the week, you toe the line or you hit the road. Now get in the damn car."

* * *

"So how was the first day, Short Pants?" A disembodied voice was coming from Dick's computer screen.

"_I hate when she calls him that, John. I really do. It's just so patronizing and I can't begin to understand why he takes it from her."_

"_He's in love with the girl."_

"_He thinks he is."_

"_Mary…behave."_

Dick hit some button and Barbara's face appeared, glasses in place, hair tied up in a loose and messy bun. "It was all right. It takes a while to fit in but it'll be okay."

"So it's not all smooth sailing, Twenty Something Wonder?"

"Babs, c'mon, lighten up, will 'ya?"

"Okay, I'm sorry, but how was it, really?"

"I had three different regular cops try to find out if I'm open to bribes and my captain hinted around that if I see anything I shouldn't in the locker rooms or on a street corner involving cops and money, I should assume they're working undercover and not worry about it." Dick took a long swallow from the bottled water he'd just pulled out of his fridge. He'd unbuttoned his shirt and stood in front of the small table fan that couldn't possibly keep up with the heat wave Bludhaven was in the middle of.

"And if you do worry about it?"

"He hinted that would probably be a bad idea."

"So you have your work cut out for you, little Dickie."

"Babs, c'mon, lay off. You want to share some dinner? I can be there in like half an hour."

"Sure, FBW. Chinese, you can buy."

"_I swear, John, if that woman was here, I'd smack her and then I'd talk to Dick."_

"_Mare…"_

"_Oh for God's sake, he can do so much better and you know it as well as I do."_

"_Mary, leave his love life to him. Don't butt in here."_

_She gave him a look that promised nothing and went to get the remote. "Sweetheart? I know you think you're in love with this girl, but that doesn't mean you have to lie down and be a doormat for her. Stand up for yourself and tell her what you really think. If you just stand there hemming an hawing you won't get anywhere."

* * *

_

"So how was it really? You think it's going to work out for you?"

Dick swallowed the last piece of General Tso's and wiped his mouth. Damn, this was pretty much what he needed; relaxing with Babs, finally getting rid of the hunger pangs and talking out the day. "It's going to be okay, I just have to get a feel for who everybody is and what their connections are, but then I should be able to make some major inroads with the bribes and stuff, really clean out the crap that's filling the department now."

"Sounds good, but Dad says that it's probably the worst department in the country and he thinks anyone who tries to clean it up is going to end up regretting the effort or dead."

He broke out with the big smile and a laugh. "Wouldn't be any fun if it wasn't a challenge, darlin. Like you." Reaching over, he tried to pull her closer, but she pushed him away.

"Cut it out."

"What?"

"Just…don't."

Dick sat back only slightly chastised and barely deflated by the rejection, glancing at his watch. "I have to get going anyway, I have the early shift and I should patrol." He put his shoes back on and started towards the dinner mess.

"Just leave it, Dick, I'll get it." Shrugging and smile back in place, he cleared the plates and containers anyway while Barbara sat at the end of the couch. "You know it's not like that for us, okay? We both know it and we both know it's never going to change as long as I'm stuck here like a bump in a chair."

He came back to where she was sitting knelt beside her, serious for a change. "I've told you a dozen times the chair doesn't matter to me, enough times that you should have gotten it by now. If there's something else, some other reason, if you're not interested or if there's someone else, then be honest enough to tell me but if it's just that you're afraid then it's boring now, Barbara, and it's time you dealt with it because we both know that it _is_ like that for us and it could be a whole lot more like that if you'd get off the pot." He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

She finally laughed and he left happier than he arrived.

* * *

"I still don't like this idea of him laying himself on the line like this as a uniformed cop. I understand what he's trying to do, but this isn't necessary, there are other ways he could accomplish the same thing if he wasn't so Goddamned stubborn."

"I can't for the life of me imagine where he learned that, sir." Alfred placed the turkey sandwich, no mayo or butter, lettuce and tomatoes with a glass of milk on the side where Bruce could reach it, the same as he did every night when the Master came home from patrol. Ten years ago there would have been two sandwiches, or perhaps three, an entire pitcher of milk and freshly baked cookies to go along side. Then there was Master Jason and now Master Tim, but he didn't seem to like the late night snack the way the others all did and rarely joined in.

"Plus the chances he's taking with someone uncovering his identity—he knows better than this. Nightwing's work is too close to that of a cop on the street—he'll be dealing with the same people in both roles and—damn him—he knows better." Batman was sitting at the main computer console down in the cave and was not well pleased this evening. On top of Dick's insistence on being foolhardy about working with the BPD, he was also adamant about his courting Barbara Gordon and while Bruce had nothing against the woman—respected her quite a bit, in fact—a blind man could see they were wrong for each other. Dick was the eternal optimist; Barbara saw the dark side of things. Dick loved adventure, Barbara loved research. Dick was an athlete, Barbara was too, in her way, but…

"Perhaps if you spoke to him, sir…you _are_ his father now." But of course that wasn't likely, considering that almost every time the two masters spoke, it turned into an argument.

Bruce became more thoughtful than usual. "I wonder if that was a mistake, adopting him at this late stage. Maybe if I'd done that when he was younger it would have made a difference, but when he was in his twenties I think he may have resented it after all that time had gone by."

"My boy, you proved to him you love him more than anyone in your life, you're…"

"He was so hurt when I adopted Jason, though. He had a right; I guess, but it all seemed to make sense back then. I screwed up, Alfred."

"A gentleman never 'screws up', sir. He might occasionally make a mistake or miscalculate, though." Bruce gave him a thin smile and turned back to the monitor. Perhaps it would be better to let Dick find his own way and be prepared to pick up the pieces once again if he failed. Let him do it his way for now. "Are you through for the evening, sir or will you be requiring me again?"

"Get some sleep, Alfred. I'll just be a few minutes." Before he left, Alfred glanced at the monitor; Master Bruce was scanning the Bludhaven police frequencies and checking through that's city's newspapers to make sure his son was still all right. It was what he expected.

"_You know I don't mind him being a cop, but being a cop there? My God, John, it's almost like he's determined to get himself killed."_

"_He's as well trained as anyone could be, Mary, you know that, Plus he does have the back up of both the Titans and the JLA is he needs them, all he has to do is call and they'll be there for him."_

"_This is a mistake. You know it as well as I do. I can feel it. This is going to end badly and he's going to be hurt one way or another."_

"_Mary, please. He's not a child any more, he's in his twenties, he's been a vigilante for a dozen years—more, in fact. He's been through police training and he's a world-class athlete. Plus you know how smart he is—he'll be all right. Besides, he's a sergeant now, they think highly enough of him to promote him; he's doing well and, more importantly, the in-house crime for that police force is down by more than half. That's what he wanted and he's getting it done."_

"_And he's distracted by that little bitch he's supposedly in love with. I swear, if I had my way he'd just walk away from her before she just tears his heart out or worst. You saw him today out on patrol—he was barely paying attention and it was just dumb luck and the remote that stopped him from skidding into that phone pole. She's playing him like he was a deck of cards. I just wish he'd come to his senses about her." She knew her husband wasn't listening. "John?"_

"_Where does Wayne come off adopting my son? I know why he did it, but the gall of the man. He's my son. Mine."

* * *

_

"Master Bruce, I really think Master Dick would appreciate a call or visit from you, sir. I believe he needs…"

"Needs what?"

"Needs to know you love him, Sir." Alfred stood without moving, clearly ready to do battle. "In the last few days he has violently lost both his new home along with a great many friends there and his childhood one with Haley's burning. His young lady has refused him comfort and he is without a job. I would think he is very much in need of his friends rallying about and doing what they can for him." Alfred handed Bruce his jacket. "And he needs that help now.

"_Thank you, Mary. You were right about calling on Alfred for this."_

"_I don't think Bruce is the one to help Dick, though. He never really was; it was always Alfred who was there for Dick when he was younger."_

"_Dick will bounce back, you'll see. He always has; it's what he's made of. He has more friends than anyone I know, he'll call the right one."_

"_Remember when he was little and you would clean off his scrapes and cuts? You used to promise him that nothing would ever hurt him, remember that? I used to think it was so sweet of you, but he had to get hurt, it was just a matter of time."

* * *

_

Dick was restlessly asleep in Catalina's bed, naked, dreaming.

"_You know this isn't right for you, son. You know this won't solve anything and you know there are still places you can go now."_

He was tossing, tangling the covers around his legs, mumbling in his sleep.

"_You know Roy or Wally would be here in a heartbeat. Even Garth if you can get a hold of him. Clark has been a good friend to you since you were nine years old, he'll do anything you want. Call them, Dick. Let your friends help you."_

The tossing continued, becoming more pronounced and waking Tarantula. "You all right, babe? You need a sleeping pill or something?"

"_You're stronger than this, Dick. You always have been stronger than any three people put together. Otherwise you wouldn't be who you are, you wouldn't have been able to handle our deaths or being locked in Juvie. You couldn't have been the best Robin of all of them and you couldn't have overcome losing him by evolving into Nightwing. You can do this, son. I know you can."_

"Maybe a drink of water, babe?"

"_You've taken some hard hits, I know that, but you're still here and we're not leaving you, Dick. Remember when you were little and you knew we'd always be there? We still are. Lots of people still are. Let them help you, son. You've helped so many over the years, let your friends help you now. It's right. Let them help you now."_

He looked up at Catalina leaning over him, just able to make her out with the slight light coming in from the shaded window. "You okay now, babe? You want anything?" The bedside clock read four-ten.

"Cat, I gotta go, okay?"

"Don't be silly, it's raining out there."

"I'm sorry, I gotta see someone." He pulled his uniform on over her protests and questions and walked down the stairs out to the street. Pulling his cel out he pushed number four on the speed dial. "Roy? You busy?" He started to feel the broken pieces hurt a little less.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

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**Watching**

**Conclusion**

**Present Day**

"I think this will end up being a good year." Dick was sitting in his new apartment, Roy had stopped over a while ago and they were on the second six-pack.

"Why's that, Grayson?"

"Because I've lightened my load, jettisoned the crap and taken out the garbage."

Roy gave him a cool look. "Have you now?" Dick didn't discuss his personal life until at least the fourth beer.

"Yes, I have and I did it without the help of the Bat. In fact, we happen to have come almost full circle and are speaking to one another again as if we mean it."

"And dare I ask if you do mean it?" He popped yet another can. Tomorrow morning wasn't going to be pretty.

"Damn right I do—he's my father, did you know that?"

"So you've decided that you're okay with being adopted? I thought that was a dab on the awkward side, all things considered. You know, like maybe a decade or so belated."

"Water under the bridge, yesterday's news, m'friend." Dick reached for the last calzone; who'd've thought he could eat three of them at one sitting on top of all that damn beer?

Roy was at the totally mellow stage, almost laying down in the big easy chair, legs splayed out in front of him, boneless. "How's your love life going, Grayson? You two set the big day yet? She inundating you with bridesmaids swatches and flower arrangements?"

"It's off." He finished his current can of beer.

"Say what?"

"Cancelled. Stopped. Changed our minds. Stepping back a bit. Not happening." He popped another can, he wasn't sure but it may have been his seventh.

"Dick?" This got Roy's attention.

"Nah, it's okay. It's for the best and all that crap." He drained half the can. "It's fine."

That was about as big a load as Roy ever heard Dick try to throw, but if he wanted to talk about it he would, if not or if not yet, well…when he was ready he'd go there.

"So what about you, Roy, you seeing anyone?"

"Short, dark and dependant is where my heart leads me these days."

"Lian?"

"Yep."

They'd known each other since they were twelve years old. They'd been to weddings and funerals and other planets together, and there wasn't anyone either of them trusted more than each other; they had no secrets, or none that mattered, anyway. Brothers in everything but blood, birth to earth, womb to tomb they were there for each other.

"_I'm glad Dick has Roy to talk to."_

"_I thought you hated him because he's a bad influence."_

"_He is a bad influence, but he's the one Dick feels comfortable with and after that horrible girl decided to change her mind again…"_

"_Mary, you saw it as well as I did, it was a mutual decision."_

"_My foot it was. Dick was heart broken and it's the reason he's been tomcatting around with those tramps he finds in bars. I just wish there was some way to get him going back to mass and confession so he can get some perspective on what he's doing."_

_John put down his newspaper to take a good look at his son on the screen in front of them. "Have you noticed that he's become a really handsome young man? I mean like movie star handsome and he has that athlete's body. No wonder he has no trouble getting girls."_

"_Thank you, that makes me feel so much better and of course he's handsome, he always was a good looking boy. I just wish that he…"_

"_That he would settle down? I know you do. He will when he's ready. Now let it go for now, Mare and take a walk with me."_

_She wasn't ready to drop it quite yet. "Is he talking to Bruce now?"_

"_On and off. Why?"_

"_I think I'll do something about that later."_

"_Mary…"_

"Master Bruce? You have a secure call on line three."

Since Alfred didn't say who was on the line, Bruce knew. "What's going on?" Neither of them would waste time with the niceties.

"I was wondering if you'd heard anything about that blackmailing attempt against Josh Bennett?"

Josh Bennett, the Donald Trump of Gotham but richer and significantly less tacky, almost as rich as Bruce, in fact. "Not much, just that the FBI is handling it, why?" Bruce was wondering of Dick would get involved with this or not. Evidently he had his answer.

"I think it's a lot bigger than just some guys out to score some money. I heard there might be a defense contract on the line using dirty money to get it passed and some weapon grade plutonium is part of the deal; probably headed to the Mid-east. It looks like Bennett is doing everything he can to get the stuff to the blackmailers so his wife is released. It's gone international as of last night."

"I see—so what do you propose; Interpol?"

"Maybe as back up, but I was thinking Justice League because of the time factor."

"Not Outsiders?"

"Not enough experience there." That surprised Bruce a little, but Nightwing was nothing if not practical.

"Fine. Have you made the call?"

"I asked Oracle to call in J'onn and Wally, plus Arthur since it looks like there's some navy work involved. I also have Roy on reserve in case we need him."

"Fine; it's your operation. I'll meet you in five minutes. Out." So Barbara was 'Oracle' again as far as Dick was concerned. At least they were able to work together again. If nothing else.

"Everyone been briefed?"

"Of course." Nightwing didn't even bother with a dirty look and Batman knew he'd just insulted his protégé. It was unintentional, but it was there and everyone in the room knew it. Christ, no matter what he said, it seemed to set Dick on edge lately. "Arthur, I need you to make sure no one gets past the blockades in the harbors and anywhere else they may be bringing boats in or meeting at sea."

"No problem." He left to do his job.

"J'onn? You cover Bennett so everyone thinks he's still in his office waiting for a call. I want to arrange a press conference to reinforce the he's playing the blackmailer's game—Oracle will help you with that, okay?"

"Of course. What should my demeanor be?"

"Angry, frightened, anxious to do whatever it takes to get your wife back but still a bit defiant. He's not a wimp and he resents being used and not having control. You might want to imagine what would happen if Bruce Wayne were in that position." Dick ignored Batman's annoyed look, smiling to himself at the image he'd just painted for everyone.

"Wally and Roy, you're backing up me and Batman. We're going to hit the ship—'Lady Luck'— holding the wife as soon as it gets dark. Take out the crew, secure her, secure the weapons and turn everything over to whoever is there by then—Navy, Coast Guard, Interpol, what ever. Any questions?"

"Seems basic enough." Batman looked almost bored with it all.

"Okay, let's go."

"_That man! He's yawn no matter what was going on. No wonder Dick hates him."_

"_Dick doesn't hate him, Mary. That's the problem."_

"_Well, I hate him enough for the both of us, then."_

"_Mare…"_

"Nightwing, behind you."

"Flash…"

"I'm on it."

"In the sick bay—Speedy, secure the hostage."

"They're trying to scuttle the ship out from under us, where's Orin?"

"Shit—wha?"

"Captain! We're being towed towards the American boundary. If we leave international waters…"

"Dump the cargo, open he damn bilges—flood the damn hold. Fuckin' kill the bitch. Now!"

"Goddamnit—they have her out already—shit."

"Where's the damn crew?"

"The crew is contained, Nightwing."

"Good, the hostage?"

"Speedy is still with her below decks."

"…Jesus, Flash—make sure they're both all right. The rest of the crew isn't accounted for and may be…"

"I'm on it, Wing."

"Even _he_ wouldn't try anything with us as witnesses, 'Wing, c'mon, the man is a professional tug, but no one said he was stupid."

"And he's looking at twenty-five to life when the trial is over so he has nothing to lose—check them now." The heroes Nightwing had brought into this case were all seasoned professionals and had their jobs under control, just as expected. Interpol made the official arrests, the US Coast Guard transported the prisoners and Mrs. Bennett was reunited with her husband and three kids. They dutifully invited their rescuers back for dinner or a celebratory glass, which was politely declined with the heroes all going their separate ways to patrol their own cities or work on their own cases.

"_Really, John—look at that. 'Thanks for risking your lives for me, see 'ya."_

"_Mary, relax. It was business, not a social occasion."_

"_They could still spend some time together."_

"_Dick does spend down time with his friends, you know that."_

_She gave him an exasperated look and reached for the remote._

A half hour later with the final mop-up finished, Arthur, J'onn and the rest were gone and Nightwing was ready to get back to his apartment for a few hours of sleep when he felt a hand on his arm. Turning he looked a question at Batman.

"Come on back to the cave; I have a few new things I think you'd like to see, maybe you could use them yourself on a case." Nightwing just stared as though trying to figure out what he'd just heard. "C'mon, you have a hot date instead?"

"Excuse me?"

"Have a beer with me; catch up." Bruce actually smiled. "I want to hear what you've been doing."

Yeah, right. "You're speaking gibberish."

The feeble joke didn't work to deflect Bruce. "Alfred would love to see you, too. How long has it been since you stopped by?"

This wasn't normal. This definitely wasn't normal. "What's going on—Alfred isn't sick or anything, is he?"

"He's fine, come see for yourself."

Mentally shrugging and wondering what was really going on, Dick followed the Batmobile back to the cave on his cycle. As expected, Alfred was waiting with a tray of sandwiches and a pitcher of cold milk, his face lighting up when he heard the roar of bike echoing through the cavern. His happiness and surprise causing the unprecedented breech of his setting the tray down on the edge of the computer console instead of on the designated table.

"Master Dick, my word, what a treat!" Alfred almost, but not quite, forgot himself enough to put his arms around the young man, but restrained himself at the last moment with a gentlemanly hand on the shoulder.

"_Give him a hug, Dick. Make him happy."_

Swinging his leg over the seat, Nightwing pulled his mask off and embraced the old man in one smooth movement, holding him long enough for the man to regain his composure.

"It's been too long, my boy, much too long. Now let me look at you." He pulled back enough to really see his old charge. "You're too thin by half."

"You always say that."

"I'm always right. Now you start in this and I' be back in a trice with more. No arguments; eat." Dick was sat at the console, the food slid in front of him and Bruce, cowl pushed back, leaning close beside, watching Dick finish the first sandwich and start on the second.

"Didn't you eat?"

"No time. You know how it is." Dick swallowed a glass of milk without pausing to breathe. He was skipping meals again.

"You going back to the BPD?" Bruce saw the almost controlled look on Dick's face, clearly he hadn't expected this news to be out yet. "Gordon told me about it. Well, he told Bruce Wayne at a charity dinner last week. Have you made a decision?"

"Thinking about it. You have an opinion?" Of course Bruce had an opinion. Bruce always had an opinion. And of course Dick knew about it—Amy Rohrbach called him two weeks ago to see if he was interested.

"It's a step backwards for you."

He didn't agree, but, "Okay, I'll bite. What would you prefer?"

"_Tell him how much you miss him. Tell him how proud you are of him and tell him how you'd be proud of him no matter what he decides to do."_

"I think you should do whatever you want, whatever will make you happy." Bruce saw the odd look on Dick's face, as though he was waiting for the punch line. "I mean that. You're old enough to make your own decisions and you generally do what's right for you." A pause. "Most of the time, anyway."

Dick was shaking his head. "Of course." He stood up, angry and about to walk out.

"Wait. Stop—that's not what I meant. You usually do the right thing; I meant it as a compliment. I know you're smart and I know you'll do what's best for you in the long run."

Dick was smiling now, but he wasn't happy, more like he'd just had something confirmed that he'd always known. "Yeah, well, I bumble along, thanks."

"_Fix this!"_

"I meant that you're…"

"I'm what?"

"I meant that I know you'll do the right thing." He put his right hand on Dick's shoulder, squeezing slightly. "I mean that I'm proud of you." A short beat. "And I always have been. You've become everything I hoped you would and…" He stumbled for words, unaccustomed to such things. "And I'm proud of you."

Dick tried to find the zinger in the declaration, the twist of the knife he'd become used to, the criticism hidden in the compliment but couldn't find it and wondering when it would come. He almost smiled, a bridge had possibly been crossed, a corner might have been turned and they both knew it. "Thank you." The almost smile became a small but genuine one. "I'm proud of you, too, Bruce." He looked at his bike, ready to leave but, "'You mind if I crash here? It's late and I'm kinda tired."

"Your room's always ready for you, you know that."

Yes, he did.

Later that night Dick had the familiar dream, the one where he talked with his parents. It was the same dream he'd been having since they'd been killed and while the details varied, the basic theme was always comfortingly the same. They were there for him; he wasn't alone and he never would be.

_They were in what he recognized as the house they now lived in, if they were living, and they got up to greet him as he came in, happy to see him. "Sweetheart, you know we'll always help you, that if you're ever frightened or lost or confused, we'll try to make things right for you."_

"_I know that—you've always been there for me, ever since I was born."_

"_And we'll be here for you until you die, darling; a long time from now as you tell time. You may think we've left you because you don't need us as much as you used to, but if something happens, you can depend on us, just like you always have."_

"_I know that." But did this mean…? "Won't I see you again?"_

"_Of course you will, but you can make your own way. You'll see us again and one day you'll join us, but not yet."_

"_You still have too much to do, Dick. You get done what you have to, give us grandchildren and let Bruce spoil them just a little." John looked a little sad he wouldn't be doing the spoiling himself. "You've made us proud, son. You always have and you always will."_

_The room was fading, as dreams sometimes do._

"_Mom? Dad? I want to still be able to talk with you."_

"_You will, darling. We love you and we always will. We'll be watching you, sweetheart."_

Dick opened his eyes, looking around his old bedroom at the Manor with the framed Haley poster on the wall and the eight by ten photo of him with his parents in costume on the nightstand.

His mother's perfume still evident in the cool night air.

8/13/06

11


End file.
